Comfort
by 1Past and Present1
Summary: Sometimes, it's nice to be held.


A persistent prodding disturbs the deep, dark plain of the dreamscape like a finger dipped in a murky pond and swirled about, scattering unknown things below, things that moved and lived but will not be remembered. Although the time is unknown, surely, it is too early.

"Hrmph." Tangle is thus stirred from her slumber, nose twitching, brows creasing together. She turns her head to one side, garnering moments of peace, only for the prodding to return. She mutters an inarticulate complaint.

Occupying the crook of her body, Whisper is neatly curled. The wolf remains undisturbed, snoring very softly, a most ladylike snore. She doesn't believe that she snores and denies this truth whenever it is presented to her, much like the reality that her tail does sometimes wag (such a doglike thing to do).

"Whassit…?" The lemur eventually tries to brush the prodding thing away, only for it to resume its impatient prodding in earnest. She resorts to lethargically rolling over, embracing the wolf's voluptuous body from behind. This frees Tangle from the assault to her nose, which she buries in Whisper's loosened, silky hair.

Sleep would soon reclaim its willing victim.

If only the lemur could avoid a drowsy giggle, becoming increasingly aware of the wolf's tiny snores.

Whisper doesn't mind. She has grown fond of certain luxuries as a domesticated creature, such as being able to sleep in the comfort of a bed, rather than enduring a well-worn sleeping bag under the stars. She's even grown quite comfortable with her lover's cuddly tendencies, as Tangle has a tendency of making the wolf feel wonderfully safe, even when less than fully conscious.

The lemur's dreamless smile is tested when her ear is lightly batted at by a paw, but she merely grunts, holding her lover more tightly.

A tiny weight is thrown on her shoulder.

Decidedly awake, her eyes peel open, swivelling aside to glare tiredly at her assailant, which, unsurprisingly, is accompanied by the others, all staring back at her. "Ugh."

Whisper likes to think that her precious Wisps are entirely innocent. That they would never do such a thing, being such sweet little creatures. Of course, she is biased, even if she knows them better than anyone.

"You guys," Tangle mutters, husky and fond, before closing her eyes again and pretending that they are not here and that she didn't acknowledge them only moments ago. She is willing to play dead at this point, even though she knows how this will end. She considers it a form of revenge.

Something wriggles beneath the covers, trying to curl up against her back. It's kind of ticklish.

Combined with those ladylike snores, further resistance is undone.

"M'kay, m'kay! Fine."

There is an exchange of victorious expressions.

"Cuddle time it is. Grrrmph…"

As the duvet is lifted, they plunge beneath.

"Every day the same shtick…"

The snoring doesn't change at all, despite the wriggling and general commotion so close by.

Eventually, the Wisps settle, a prehensile tail moving, snakelike, to envelop them in fluffy coils.

"Cute little buggers." With a final smirk at her bounty, she is satisfied, then tucks herself in, thus smothering the little ones piled against her. "Next time, I want breakfast in bed, kids." Her eyes flutter shut.

Soft snores fill the space most pleasantly, like it's just right.

* * *

"Bad dream?"

"Mmhm."

Without another word, as no further words are required, Rouge shifts herself over, making room on her already oversized bed for Shadow to join her. She soon settles, again, and smiles invitingly, peering at him from over the layer of blankets that obscures her form, large ears pressed against the sheer wall of pillows she has erected for her considerable comfort, as well as his. She's always prepared.

He chuckles gently at the absurdity of this, his eyes hot and soft as he steps over the threshold that is her open doorway.

"Are your hands cold?" is the question she poses as he slides beneath the covers, his agile, lithe body, emitting raw energy that makes her tingle pleasantly.

"Probably."

"Come here."

He obediently allows her to drag his hands toward herself, kissing his fingers in a vaguely motherly way before tucking them into her sides, beneath her folded wings.

"My god, Shadow, you're freezing."

The dark hedgehog raises an arched brow at the amused bat. "Apologies."

"Oh, hon. How long were you sitting alone before you came to me?"

"Close to an hour."

"And right by an open window, too, mm?"

"I like to be melodramatic." Sighing, he attempts to bury his troubled brow beneath her strong jawline, his quills bending to compensate. "Perhaps my thoughts will escape if I only show them out."

She nuzzles him and it's so simple, so nonsexual.

* * *

Silver knows that if he runs his fingertips over the bare flesh of Blaze's back, her muscles will ripple and she will enjoy it openly, for a while, before pretending to find such a thing tedious and unbecoming, rousing from her doze to hum in her throat or glare through golden slits. A cat is a delightfully strange, supple thing to a hedgehog. But he refrains, allowing her to remain draped over his lap quite languidly, aloof yet dominating his presence with her own. He, too, idly considers playing with her whiskers, her tail, her retractable claws. Just a few of the many curiosities of her body which he has come to admire.

As for her, she occupies an inner world, now, lulled and at ease. She has found his warmth more than sufficient for a nap. In truth, it's delightful. And she works so hard, for so many hours of each day, resisting her feline instincts in order to serve others. This rest is thoroughly deserved. It isn't indulgent at all. Not really. Besides, he sat down and offered her a place in his embrace, smiling his smile, the one that is modest and sweet, telling her that he doesn't truly know how irresistible she finds him. No matter how gallant she may be, she could not deny such a smile. And thus, she has claimed him as her resting place, quite rightfully so. Falling this deeply asleep was quite natural. Indeed, taking off her clothes was not necessary, perhaps, but she is growing older and appreciates simple things such as his skin against hers. Even if she is garbed in old scars. He makes her feel beautiful.

He turns his head to a window, contemplating the sky beyond. It is proving to be a very pleasing day. He also imagines that she'll likely bite him if he tries to rub her stomach, again, so it would be unwise to consider it too deeply, although it is amusing to do so.


End file.
